


The Alchemist's Mansion

by LovelessJinx



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Biting, Blood and Violence, Disabled Character, Gen, Magic, Mild Gore, Mind Manipulation, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 13:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30073095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessJinx/pseuds/LovelessJinx
Summary: Elika Rezaee, a kindred belonging to the Banu Haqim, meets with the infamous Tremere Alchemist, Saharat in their hidden mansion. Upon arriving Elika seems to be in the latter stages of a supernatural affliction only Saharat can treat.*This work is an AU of THE MES 2017 VtM Chronicle.





	The Alchemist's Mansion

A seemingly derelict sailboat sailed towards land with a tall jagged cliffside and lush forests. The night was calm but the clouds slowly hiding the stars warned that it wouldn’t be for long. Elika strained against the rope as she tied a sail in place. Cursing her weakness and wiping her brow, she turned towards the horizon which was nothing more than an abyss due to the coming storm. The gentle wind started to pick up pushing the loose strands of grey and black into her face. She adjusted her maroon head scarf, which was the only bit of color in her all black ensemble, and tucked her hair back into place. Once near the face of the cliff Elika tossed anchor and dove into the water with three black duffel bags in tow. With its Captain gone the Obfuscate power faded revealing the vessel to be a modern Cutter boat.

Even though the storm was miles upon miles away the waves still threatened to pull Elika under. Through the fatigue and extra weight of her luggage she swam gracefully until she reached an abnormally smooth and reflective area of the cliff. It’s almost as if that section was made of onyx but upon further inspection it was actually a car sized mirror built into the cliff. Elika pressed against the mirror while chanting to have it suck her in. A moment later she fell out onto mud from another mirror. She was surrounded by jungle save for a mansion that oddly blended in with the surrounding foliage. Picking herself up Elika walked up the winding dirt road leading to the mansion.

At the front of the mansion large double doors acted as the entrance with a silver dragon head embedded between them. Upon reaching them Elika dropped the duffle bags and pulled her glove off with her teeth. She willed her blood to ooze out of the wounds in her hand, though you wouldn’t know it was blood with its grey color and being the consistency of oatmeal. She then placed her bloodied hand in the mouth of the dragon causing the doors to open inward. Grabbing the bags Elika crossed the threshold and entered the Mansion. The inside was like walking into a museum; all the artwork, decor, and even the furniture varied in age from modern up to being millennia old. The bottom level was just one huge room, as big as a warehouse with several Jade support beams and a spiral staircase leading to the upper levels. 

Elika kicked off her wet boots and socks, and climbed the spiral staircase to the top of the mansion. She dragged her fingertips lightly on the carved wooden dragon that served as a rail as she ascended. She couldn’t help but appreciate the Khmer's charming tastes as she passed the other levels. On the final level the stairs opened to a lounge type area complete with couches, a fireplace, and a bookcase filled with lost tomes about magic. She has read all the books several times over, a good number of them at Alamut, but they never lost their effect on her. She would sometimes play a game with herself to see if she recited the next passage perfectly before turning the page. Elika allowed herself a moment to read a chapter from a tome on Telekinesis, a subject she’s been struggling with. With a sigh of frustration, she left the tome on a chair to return to later.

Leaving the lounge and into the hallway that stretched across the mansion, she made her way to the laboratory at the very end. On her left were large windows that spanned the length of the hallway with Damask print curtains. Normally they would be closed during the day but at night, they were tied back giving a serene view of the emerald sea. On the right were more paintings except these illustrated stories of demons and gods vanquished by a lone Sorcerer. Her knuckle was about to rap the door when their voice called out, "Enter." Sharp, emotionless. It seemed she caught them in a good mood.

Inside, the laboratory was a mixture of old world occult and new age technology. The large wooden cabinet on one side of the wall was covered with documents, a customized microscope with runes carved on the base, several open books, jars with inky liquid, and a stainless steel tray with mortician instruments. The rest of the walls had multiple refrigerators, shelves with alchemic components and wet specimens, laptops, chemicals, storage boxes, and a few bookcases. At the center was an operating chair with its arms removed sitting in the corner. Saharat stood arranging surgical implements and jars onto the medical rolling tray that stood just next to the chair. They turned to look at Elika, immediately settling their gaze on her missing right arm. After a moment of silence Saharat raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

Doing her best to keep a straight face she replied, "The reactions dropped to 1 to 4 and it ended up getting too damaged. I have it here." Elika placed a bag on the floor save for one, handing it to Saharat instead. The Alchemist retrieved a mangled prosthetic from the duffel bag and carried it across the room placing it upon a workbench. They flipped on an overhead lamp and began carefully taking the arm apart. "It's full of sand," Saharat said with a hint of annoyance. "The joints were expected to be compromised by particulates but it's in the internal mechanisms as well." A small mound of sand began growing as they cleaned out the prosthesis. "I designed it to retain 80% of its function while maintaining an immediate response under most circumstances, but I forgot to account for the Elika factor."

Elika couldn't help feel somewhat guilty considering all the work they put them through, but hey, unforeseen events happened all the time? Though she really didn't have to stab through the earth elemental to get to its caster, even if it was the most efficient move at the time. Saharat spent a moment in quiet contemplation focusing on the arm. It started to produce a small hum that could only be heard due to her mastery in Auspex, as Saharat's aura and the psychic impressions left on the prosthetic began to resonate with each other. When their eyes opened they had that knowing look to them; guess the jig was up. "I sent you to do reconnaissance and you ended up in battle? While stress testing is crucial to creating a final product, this trial run was intended to test longevity and motor function. Do tell what I can do to quench this blood thirst of yours?" Their voice was monotone but the smirk of their face conveyed a different message. 

"While investigating the Rogues, I found them in Cohort with another target of yours, the Giovanni." Elika pointed to the larger unopened duffel bag. "They were enacting some sort of ritual attempting to use human sacrifices; she is the only survivor." Ritual seemed more in lines with a Baali one than a thaumaturgical one. Humans were stripped and tied around a stake on a beach. The circle drawn out seemed to be composed of both thaumaturgical and necromantic designs. Whatever they were doing, it wasn't going to end well for anyone. 

Saharat pinched the bridge of their nose and closed their eyes letting out a sigh. "We needed them alive to bring to light any associates, plans, or otherwise critical information." Elika didn't wait for them to continue their lecture, instead they retrieved several thick leather bags from the smallest duffel bag. She emptied their contents next to the broken arm which consisted of dozens of folders, flash drives, and a hard drive. "These folders-” Elika separated a stack to the side. “Are my reports on, well, everything you just mentioned. The rest consists of relevant files, photos, articles, and what-have-you to my report. The storage units are everything I was able to pull off their electronics." Saharat’s body relaxed and returned to examining the arm. "Good. I saw in the vision that it was already in this state of destruction so how did you continue its use?"

"I empowered it with my blood; Quietus specifically." More specifically it was Blood Tempering as it was known by the Viziers. Initially it was used to fortify weapons, but Elika had expanded on its uses to even have a dysfunctional machine operate despite missing half its pieces. She once thought it a niche technique, but now had grown to rely on its use.

"I see, Quietus seems to be very versatile. And the sand got in after it was damaged?"

"Correct."

"If it wasn’t the… " Saharat trailed off mouthing words to themselves. Their eyes then narrowed, focusing on Elika. "Show me your arm, " they commanded. Elika took off her jacket and rolled up the shirt sleeve covering her residual right arm. The amputation, or more accurately the curse, eroded her arm all the way to a few inches above her elbow. The end of the limb was covered by a skin sleeve, and above that were Arcanic runes and circles that had a soft blue glow to them. Black tendrils of shadow ran up from under the skin sleeve, up her shoulder criss crossing with her black veins, and disappeared under her shirt. The Alchemist frowned at this. They traced their fingers along her arm, examining how much the curse had worsened; but they centered their focus on the arcane writings. "Ah, the circle has been broken."

"Yeah, I got a cut there but I healed it. Wouldn't it form the circle back?"

"True except I didn't tattoo your arm. I implanted an Alchemic gel subdermally to facilitate the connection between you and the prosthesis. When you received that injury it must have pulled some of that gel out, hence the delayed responses." Saharat waived this off. "No matter, it just means I have to implant it deeper."

Elika gave them a wary eye. "How deep?"

Saharat grinned at their question. "Bone deep but we will get to that last. First, I need to inspect the rest of you. Your curses have returned quicker than anticipated," the Alchemist said as they pointed to the dried grey blood on Elika’s left hand. Saharat manifested a clear box with a sliding top. They then removed Elika's skin sleeve, revealing the shadow tendrils emitting from a larger shadow that covered the end of her arm. Saharat then tossed the sleeve into the box and sealed it. Elika stripped off her tops until her skin was bare, tossing them onto unoccupied counter space. The shadows covered her entire upper torso in a pattern that resembled ink dropped into water. Their inky tendrils ended swirling around the left side of her chest above her heart. The more the nights dragged on the worse her curses got. The shadows caused the affected areas to be numb to every sensation but cold and pain, the blood rot continued to tear her insides apart, and her right eye only viewed the world in a dark, decayed state. Looking back at the box, Elika couldn’t help but marvel at Saharat’s seeming ability to perform Thaumaturgy without incantations or gestures; an ability they displayed rarely. Though she was certained they condensed the words and movements to a slight twitch and a breath. 

Elika stood in contemplative silence as the Alchemist continued their examination, occasionally glancing into the reflective surface of the standing tray. She’s seen herself with the blood rot fully active: skin grey and mildewy, obsidian veins, and shriveled flesh. What’s worse is that it stunts her natural healing. Lacerations, burns, fractures, and contusions covered her body. Normally wounds like these Vampires would heal in one night, yet they would take her days or even weeks. The physical effects would disappear once she healed its damage, but in the latter stages of the disease, the effects would remain or even rot as they did now. The only way to completely restore her appearance was to have Saharat perform a long surgical procedure to remove the rotten blood built up in her arteries and muscles. As torturous as the procedure was, she’d rather have a week or so being at a hundred percent than to slowly become more and more enfeebled. She tried the Salubri, but even the most skilled of them were unable to remove her ailments for more than a night. No, Elika had to place her hopes for a cure in Saharat’s science. 

“Sit.” Saharat gestured to the operating chair. When Elika took her seat she went to recline it, but Saharat stopped her. “It’ll be better if you remain sitting up.” Elika shot them a questioning look, but they didn’t bother to go into further detail. Instead they collected an armful of jars out of a cabinet, an empty beaker, a metal canister from a fridge, a mortar and pestle, and placed them on a wooden tray in another workstation. Taking pinchfuls of ingredients from the first few jars, which mostly looked like plants and fungi, Saharat ground them to a paste with the mortar and pestle. They waited five minutes and added a green liquid from another jar, causing the paste to dry and crack from absorbing it. Saharat tossed in what seemed to be a blue crystal, and ground all the ingredients into a teal powder. Satisfied with how fine the powder was, they carried it, the metal canister, and the beaker over to Elika, placing them on the standing tray. 

“This-” Saharat pointed to the powder- “Will expedite the removal of toxins in a most efficient manner. I will warn you though, it will be a most uncomfortable experience.” Elika glanced between Saharat and the powder, before giving them a shake of their head. “Do what you need to. I have no choice but to endure it.” Saharat lips pressed until they were a thin line. “You always have a choice. You’ve just decided that the potential rewards and consequences are more favorable than any other choice you have available to you. You’re not a fool, stop pretending you’re not following your own will.” Saharat’s face remained neutral but Elika could always make out the slight body language that they gave away their true emotions. This was more than annoyance at Elika’s deflection to responsibility, Saharat wanted them to understand they were not resigned to any fate, but that of their own choosing. Nonetheless, Saharat’s statement only angered her.

“Yes because my other options are to suffer and waste away. Fuck, who would choose that S?” Elika’s voice rose steadily, the anger in her voice a mere fraction of what she truly felt. How dare they? She understood they were trying to be uplifting, but to suggest that they had any other option than to seek treatment was beyond infuriating!

“Do not make me repeat myself. You’ve sought to cure yourself via the Lambs, yes? From my experience with kindred suffering from ailments they weren’t immediately able to heal, the Salubri were able to alleviate them no matter how stubborn the ailment was. It didn’t matter if the subject was suffering from a severe mental block that kept them from healing or a potent curse, they were able to reverse the damage over time.” Saharat grabbed the canister, pointing it at Elika. “Have you tried more than the perfunctory attempt? I’m certain their methods are more soothing than mine albeit lacking any genius. One might believe that you hold more faith in my Alchemy than their Obeah. Though I know the truth of the matter is you always take the most painful route.” 

"Is this admiration? Never thought you would place others abilities on par with your own, S." Elika relaxed a little, coping with taunting Saharat’s ego. Though what they said is true, they always end up taking the route that inflicted the most damage. It's not as if it's completely intentional, just she felt she chose the best route and those routes always had briars. 

"First, stop deflecting." They poured the powder into the beaker and filled it with brown liquid from the canister. Saharat then quickly and evenly stirred the contents together, eventually turning the liquid clear. "Second, I am not elevating anyone to my level of ability, simply stating facts. The Salubri are so reliant and so full of their discipline, that when they meet an obstacle, they assume all is lost. No investigation, no research, and zero willingness to experiment. They could only heal you for a night, while my treatments last weeks. Moreover, you develop the worst effects immediately after their abilities resolve, while it trickles down thanks to me. I am so beyond the Lambs that I seem astronomical in comparison." They shoved the beaker in Elika's face. "Drink," they instructed.

Elika took the beaker, gingerly holding it between two fingers. She did not immediately drink the concoction, instead studying it for a minute or two. Ever since Saharat first pulled out the ingredients Elika tried to identify them with either sight or smell, but nothing came to mind. Saharat retrieved a clear bucket from a cabinet while Elika scrutinized the mixture. It infuriated Elika being unable to even make out a clue of what this concoction was. Even with her mastery of Auspex to see on a microscopic level, it would do her no good if she didn't know what she was looking at. Saharat gently squeezed her shoulder while placing the bucket on her lap. "Drink," they said but softer this time.

She forced away her insatiable curiosity and downed the liquid in one go. It tasted off but not unpleasant, and it had the consistency of blood. There was no immediate effect, but slowly her body began to heat and cramp up. After about five minutes it felt as though she might melt, and that's when the nausea set in. Immediately she began to gag and tremors were set upon her body. She gagged and gagged and gagged and nothing was coming out. She could feel something welling up inside her but was stubbornly staying in place. “You need more blood,” Saharat commented while they fetched five 1 liter bags of blood placing them on the tray. They handed the first one to Elika, “Drink, all of it, quickly!” She obeyed, biting into the bag- not even bothering with the tubing- and sucked it dry within seconds. That was the kicker she needed as she immediately vomited into the bucket. It was fibrous black blood with what looked like slugs mixed in. She didn't have time to inspect the emesis further as she started to dry heave again. She downed the blood bags, and each time she expelled more vile blood. It wasn’t until the bucket was mostly full that the nausea and tremors went away. Out of breath, with a sore diaphragm, Elika reclined the chair back to rest. Saharat took the bucket from them and placed it on the floor, but not before retrieving a sample with a test tube. 

Elika laid there trying to relax and recuperate. Despite the ordeal of purging her blood and toxic build up, she felt infinitely better. She felt so light she could float away. She sat up with some difficulty though; being drained of blood made her weak. Elika inspected her flesh and while the wounds remained, the color and weight had returned to it. She noticed there was still some blood left in the last bag. Fuck, she was so thirsty any amount of clean blood would be a boon; she just hoped she could keep it down. She was about to reach for the bag when suddenly she jumped off the exam chair, her balisong already drawn and pointed at the unopened duffel bag. Saharat was examining the blood with the runic microscope when they shouted, "We know you're awake. Do be kind and stand up so we may have a conversation." 

The duffel bag exploded with necrotic energy, shaking the entire room. A skeletal figure rose from the bag, flies swirled around their body, and green energy crackled around their joints. They hunched forward and grew sharp talons from their fingers. "Tremere," they bellowed. "Your bitch Assassin made a huge mistake dragging me here, and now I get the pleasure of tearing you apart." Elika was admittedly taken aback, she had not displayed this ability when they first fought. Though what irked her truly was the stake missing from her chest; it must have come loose in the water. Elika felt a pull at her entire being as channels of green smoke formed between her and this Avatar of Death. 

"They did as instructed and I promise you, I do not make mistakes." Saharat turned towards her, arms crossed behind their back. "Please, be civil and answer my questions, or this will end quite poorly for you Camilla." The woman responded by rushing towards Saharat but Elika was there to cut them off. They slashed at her throat but Elika easily parried the blow returning a thrust into their chest. The blade hit its mark but slid off only causing superficial damage. Camilla barraged Elika with more blows, each faster and heavier than the one before. Each strike became more difficult to parry, and Elika lacked the strength to deliver a meaningful strike. Whatever this cloak of death was, it was eating her strength. Camilla, frustrated, pointed at Elika and shouted an incantation causing a bright emerald flash to emanate from the tip of her claw. 

Despite being blinded by the light Elika could still perceive Camilla with her other Heightened Senses. Step to the left and a disturbance in the air, She went to meet her attack but suddenly the blow came from behind digging into her neck severing her head. All she could feel was absolute pain and creeping darkness as her mind faded. Elika was awoken by claws digging into her chest sending her into a cabinet shattering both it and her ribs. She was still dazed by what occurred; Elika was certain that she had died yet here she still is. Camilla capitalized on the distracted Elika by delivering a brutal kick to her head digging it into the wall. She tried to move but it took all her will to fight back the torpor.

Camilla kicked the bucket of vile blood at Elika covering her in its disgusting ichor. “Pathetic, absolute trash.” She mocked. As Camilla walked past them Elika noticed that channels shot out from the cloak absorbing both good and bad blood alike; this gave her a long shot of an idea. She scooped a bit of the blood off her chest and against her better judgement swallowed it all fighting down the nausea. Now she can activate her disciplines fully though at a price. Slipping into Obfuscate the blood ate at her and she could feel her body start to Ash. If she took even one more hit that was it, it would be over for real. Camilla was blown past her vision as Saharat repelled them with force magic. She landed on her feet, a spear of necro-energy forming in their hand. Fully formed they hurled it at Saharat with intense speed but it was easily dispersed with Saharat’s Force Bolt. “If you continue we are going to be less than hospitable when it comes to the interrogation.” Saharat had returned to the microscope inspecting the blood; it came with no difficulty to repel the assailant’s attacks while focusing on their science. 

“I’m going to enjoy putting some emotion in that face!” Camilla yelled, still chucking necro-spear after necro-spear at Saharat with no avail. It was their only recourse because if they attempted to get close they were repelled by force magic. Or something else? They used no verbal or somatic components in their magic, it just happened, which was impossible. There had to be another explanation Camilla thought. “I would worry less about me and more about her.” Saharat replied, pointing their thumb over their shoulders. It was then Elika’s knife, its edge covered in black ichor, slashed Camilla’s eyes blinding them. The effects of the poison were felt immediately as lethargy set in. She attempted to strike out blindly but no hit found its mark. Instead, Elika impaled her knife into Camilla’s forearm and threw her legs around her chest taking them down into an arm bar. Elika then bit down on their hand, sucking out their vitae. Not allowing Camilla’s Death form to steal the Vitae back she instantly used it to stabilize her body and heal a few of her wounds. Camilla thrashed about trying to escape the hold. She clawed at Elika’s legs but Elika held on, her strength reinvigorated by Camilla’s vitae. This continued on for a moment; Elika sucking out vitae and healing her body, and Camilla desperately wailing on Elika. 

Camilla healed her eyes and pointed at Elika with her free arm flashing her with emerald light causing her again to experience death. She was prepared this time and braced for it though it stunned her enough to be thrown off. Camilla already on their feet went to kick the now kneeling Elika but the strike was caught as Elika drove her knife into their foot impaling them to the floor. Camilla screamed in frustration, her eyes burning with rage. She tried to counter with a claw upper cut but Elika caught the arm with her teeth. Elika made quick, familiar hand gestures and mumbled through the flesh. Camilla realized too late what was about to happen as Elika placed her hand on her abdomen and every orifice in Camilla’s body shot out red steam as their blood was boiled. Camilla didn’t scream or flinch, they simply crumpled to the floor in pain. 

Elika retreated far enough to the other side of the room that the connection between her and the Death Cloak dissolved. “Are you finished?” she asked condescendly. Camilla pulled the knife out of her foot and tossed it to the side. “Not. Even. Close.” She rose to face the Assassin and the Alchemist, though Saharat seemed pretty disinterested in everything but their microscope. “I will not be toyed with!” Camilla yelled. She attempted to perform a spell that caused the veil to thin, wailing from wraiths on the other side becoming audible. Though this stopped abruptly as Camilla’s internal organs ruptured violently. The world returned to normal and even Camilla’s Death Avatar form dissipated. When? Thought Camilla. When did they use Quietus? Reading the confusion on their face Elika asked, “Tummy ache?”

Saharat, satisfied with their initial analysis of the vile blood, finally turned towards the pair. They walked up to Camilla, one arm behind their back in their usual regal stance. “Now that you’ve realized you’re hopefully outmatched you’ll cease this futile combat?” Camilla was a full head taller but had never felt smaller in their presence. This was ridiculous! They had feigned defeat against their Assassin just on the gamble she would get close to The Khmer, but the overwhelming gap between her and Saharat was maddening. The words “hopefully outmatched” kept ringing in their mind and it was the spark needed to ignite Camilla’s second wind. She spear handed Saharat through their chest barely missing their heart. Elika tried to rush Camilla but was knocked down as Saharat was thrown at them. She then completed the spell she attempted earlier causing the entire room to shake. The walls and ceiling dissolved revealing a desolate desert around them, and vast canyons that stretch all the way to the horizon. The landscape was constantly shifting with the memories of oceans rising and falling, entire civilizations appearing and crumbling, but it always returned to the same barren desert. Even the night sky changed from being full of stars to moons and strange planets being within view. 

Clouds swirled around Camilla and into her wounds healing her. She reactivated her Fourth Horseman form in another explosion of necro energy, though a hundred times more powerful. This was her domain, this was the Shadowlands. Elika and Saharat scrambled to their feet but Camilla was already upon them. With a clean swipe she bisected Elika and before her torso could fall to the floor Camilla pierced their heart. Saharat screamed out in rage and despair as they watched Elika slowly disintegrate. They shouted a powerful and old incantation summoning hellfire to rain down. The entire desert was lit up in flames but had no effect on Camilla as she continued to leech the raw, limitless necro energy from the Shadowlands. She summoned a Stygian lance twice the size as her previous one and it launched instantaneously at Saharat. They tried to repel the attack but the lance was faster than their incantation; it ripped off Saharat’s left arm and good part of their shoulder. Camilla walked gingerly up to Saharat picking them up by the throat, their blood being rapidly drained by the Death Cloak. “Looks like this will be your first and last mistake, Tremere.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What was it that you did to her, S? I sensed a use of Dominate but I don’t think I’ve ever encountered this iteration before.” Elika was reclined back on the operating chair looking at Camilla who had been standing there for an hour now lost in a stupor. No second wind had been afford to Camilla, they were dominated into a dream state that was indistinguishable from reality playing out in her upmost favor. Saharat, clad in a Mortician's apron and Plague Doctor-like respirator, sat next to them carefully attaching a new prosthetic to their right arm. They had already peeled away the skin and muscle, and embedded the alchemic ruins into their humerus. Saharat was in the middle of attaching the plate to the bone where the prosthesis will sit. “Now, now, I’m not going to give away all my secrets for free but I will tell you it’s an ability of Dominate not even Esteban knew. I’ll extract information from her when I am done with this surgery.” What Saharat did not mention is that they could see exactly what was playing out in their mind and even influence how it progressed.

“Okay, well any idea who this really is? Because I’m starting to suspect this isn’t your run of the mill Giovanni.” Elika winced as they drilled holes in the bone. Saharat then used bolts to attach the plate in place. Using a clear gel they smeared the inside of the plate and started the processing of attaching each individual muscle to it. The substance was viscous but it wasn’t glue, more like an agent to allow a smooth connection between flesh and machine. “A Cappadocian, which explains why they were causing the IA so many issues. Stella thought they were a simple usurper trying to take Donna from them, and that might have been their goal, but it is obvious now it was driven by a more bloody motivation.” After Saharat fused the muscles and then the flesh to the plate, they positioned the prosthetic into the plate’s port. The prosthetic itself looked like a skeletal arm with a doll hand; they were held together by metallic ligaments. Inscribed in the synthetic humerus, ulna, and radial was rings of glowing Old Khmer scripts. 

“A Cappadocian? Are you sure? I’ve seen Gio use the same transformation.” Cappadocians? That makes a third clan where necromancy runs in their blood in addition to the Giovanni and Lamia. Elika pondered to herself how they all could be connected. She did know that the Lamia were kill-on-sight by the Gio, would it be the same for the Cappadocians as well? She will have to visit Nieve later for some answers but there was only a thin trust between them. “Yes, I’m certain. No Giovanni could perform the level of Necromancy she displayed. If that wasn’t proof enough Giovanni can cross in and out of the Shadowlands with no issues, Cappadocians are empowered when they do so.”

“Wait, what? When did they go into the Shadowlands? They were stopped before they could do so.” Elika was confused but she was more suspicious than anything. Saharat is not one to smear facts, so either they witnessed Camilla shifting into the Shadowlands prior to Elika finding them or more than likely Saharat was keeping another secret from her. Saharat simply grinned, “Alchemists’ Secret.” Elika gave them an annoyed look but resigned at the futility of prying any relevant information from them. Saharat then started the tedious process of attaching wires and tubes that looked like the represented nerves and blood vessels to the prosthesis. “Don’t pout, you will soon discover in time.”

"Fine, can you at least tell me who the Cappadocians are?" Elika was not in the mood for Saharat’s games but unfortunately she had no choice but to play. If that was the case she might as well win. 

"They're cousins to the Giovanni and well vested in anything Death, you would do well if you don't mention them at all. The Gio would see anything related to them burned." Saharat waived the question off but there was something else in their tone. Worry perhaps? Elika could certainly handle herself but if the Gio were this bloodthirsty to bury these Cappadocians, she might be signing her death warrant if she wasn't careful who she talked to. Fuck it, let them come and let them taste her rotting blood; she'll deliver it unto to them via Damascus steel.

"Oh Elika, won't that be a delight. It's a shame I didn't see this fury when I was… corporeal." Elika felt Rose's presence embrace her. Hearing her voice and feeling her touch always stole her breath. She kept her face like stone so as not to alert Saharat; Elika couldn't tell them yet that Rose's soul still existed in her. Last thing she needed was losing Rose again because of an experiment gone wrong. Rose reading her thoughts didn't tease her further, she knew Elika's thoughts. The room remained silent until Saharat finished all the attachments. 

They retrieved a spray bottle with no label and spritzed the prosthetic in a clear blue fluid. Saharat grabbed the wrist of the prosthetic with one hand and Elika's bicep with the other. "Focus your vitae at the end of your limb and heal until I tell you to stop." Following their instructions they moved their blood into their upper right arm and concentrated on regenerating her arm. Saharat began chanting in Thai focusing their magic into the arm. Slowly, muscles started growing from the plate all the way to the wrist. Elika was absolutely stunned at the sight of this. It seemed impossible, but she could feel her muscles and tendons reform. "Stop,” Saharat commanded. They pulled out a linen gauze roll with lines of Ancient Khmer script running through it, and wrapped the prosthetic hiding the muscles. When they were done, Saharat had them perform motor function and sensation tests. Elika flexed the prosthetic fingers and they moved without delay. She twisted and contorted the arm every which way, and it reacted without issue or pause. What was amazing was she could feel with the limb; not only the muscles but the doll hand as well. Hot, cold, pain, pressure; she could feel them all. What was weird though, it felt like she had two arms perfectly overlapping each other. Elika knew of phantom pain but did not feel it until the limb was fully attached. How peculiar? "Perfect." Saharat was satisfied with the results, and recorded them in a file she saved for Elika. 

"This arm is leagues above the ones I attached previously as you can already surmise." Elika agreed, this was the best feeling arm they received yet. "This prosthesis benefits from your vampiric disciplines as well. You can use the limb to perform Thaumaturgy or have it benefit from any of your physical disciplines or act as a channel for your Auspex. You can heal the tissue portions of the limb but any critical damage must be repaired by me. I've placed spells on it as well that should prevent the curses from spreading to it but time will tell. The wrap secures the entire prosthesis together and acts as an extra layer of protection. Please do not be careless nonetheless, everything has its limits. Lastly, it is powered by you. If you run out of blood, it will stop working." Saharat stood up from their seat and helped Elika out of the chair. "Now, do take off, I will take care of the cleaning and repairs while I have a chat with my guest." Normally Elika would protest and stay, but she was dying to test out the new arm. It was her off hand but nonetheless having both arms at full capabilities would be a boon. The fact Saharat pulled this off both amazed and frightened her; what else are they capable of? What unknown barriers have they broken? 

Elika got dressed quickly wasting no time in leaving. She passed by Camilla who even after hours was still stuck in Saharat’s secret Dominate, and couldn't help but feel some pity for her. How long would someone stay stuck in something like that? How traumatic will it be when she discovers her reality was false? Would it break her? Questions like these ran around in her head with Rose and her beasts throwing their callous opinions. They continued even when Elika reached the boat and made sail to the nearest port. Once refueled and restocked she would head to Spain to see Nieve. Saharat didn't have any contracts for her so she had plenty of time to kill without making them suspicious. She eyed her new arm and with a flick of her wrist Elika conjured a rough blade with it. "Perfect."


End file.
